Chapter 1

[Curse] Damn Idol 1-127

Damn Idol 1

INTRO. Prologue

I know that if I tell anyone, I’ll end up in a mental hospital, but...

I made a contract with the devil.

As a result, I’m stuck in an infinite loop, trying to achieve the goals the devil set for me.

So, what’s my goal?

To sell 200 million albums.

Damn, I know.

You might think I’m on drugs, right?

I can’t even believe that devils exist, let alone that they care about album sales.

But...

There’s nothing I can do about it, even if I don’t believe it.

Sometimes, I even think I’m crazy.

Anyway, what I want to say is that I’ve tried countless challenges over the years.

Ballads, rock, hip-hop, blues, alternative, even gospel.

I’ve tried every genre.

I didn’t just sing.

I composed, produced, played instruments like the keyboard and guitar...

I tried everything I could.

You called me a genius, but I’m not.

I’m just someone with a little talent who has been dedicated to one thing for a very long time.

I’ve spent decades with GOTM.

So, it’s time to admit it.

GOTM was the best team, the best band I could create, but...

It wasn’t enough to sell 200 million albums.

No, it’s not that you were lacking.

I said it before. You were the best band.

I was the one who was lacking.

This is the first time I’ve left something like this before a regression, so I might be rambling a bit.

I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.

Sincerely.

...

It’s embarrassing, so I need to change the subject.

What should I talk about?

Maybe I should tell you that I was in the same team as Dave three times before GOTM?

He was a mess when I first met him.

He was really annoying.

I think we first met at a drug rehab center in Chicago...

* * *

Click.

Hansiun, who had finished recording, got up from his seat and pulled back the curtain.

The breathtaking view of LA, only seen from top-tier hotels, greeted him, but he felt nothing.

This life will end tomorrow.

And in the next life...

“Damn Idol.”

I’ll probably have to face the thing I hate the most.

Album 1. Regression Again

- Grammy Award for Album of the Year! The prestigious winner is...!

- Gram Of The Minute!

- GOTM! Congratulations!

The moment the band GOTM’s name was called, the four men sitting next to Hansiun jumped up and cheered.

“Fucking Grammy! We’re Grammy winners!”

“What are you doing! Leader! Get up!”

“Hansiun!”

Cheers and applause erupted as the lights flashed, and all the glory spread through the air.

But Hansiun’s face remained expressionless.

Of course, people thought he was suppressing his emotions.

How could he not be happy?

How hard had it been for GOTM, with an East Asian vocalist, to achieve such success in America?

Meanwhile, Hansiun, who had stepped onto the stage, looked at his friends and took the microphone.

“Thank you all for everything.”

It was a strange greeting.

As if this was the end.

“I will never forget this. Even if I have to repeat this life a few more times, there will never be a more perfect band than this.”

People waited for Hansiun to continue, but that was it.

Without even looking at the award being handed to him, he walked off the stage.

The audience, surprised by the unexpected turn of events, soon became curious.

They thought it was a planned award performance.

The Grammy cameras, thinking the same, followed Hansiun’s back, but...

He never came back.

“Hansiun!”

“Leader!”

The GOTM members, who had finally come to their senses, started searching for their leader.

But Hansiun was nowhere to be found in the Staples Center.

A few hours later, all they found was an old cassette tape in Hansiun’s room.

* * *

At the same time the members were searching for their leader.

Hansiun was at an intersection.

It was not a normal situation.

He had moved over 40 miles (64km) from the Staples Center in just a few minutes.

Moreover, the numerous drivers passing by seemed unaware that someone was standing in the middle of the intersection.

Vroom!

Even as a huge truck passed by, Hansiun’s clothes didn’t move.

They were in different spaces.

Hansiun, looking at the hazy sky with sunken eyes, lowered his head.

A familiar phrase appeared.

At that moment, the intersection began to overlap.

Intersections exist everywhere.

There are probably hundreds in LA alone, and thousands, maybe tens of thousands, across the United States.

How many are there on Earth?

All those intersections gathered and overlapped, centered on Hansiun.

Colors disappeared.

When all colors mix, the result is black.

As the entire world turned black...

He was nineteen again.

* * *

Beep - Beep -

Firefighters who arrived at 3 AM were speechless at the scene.

Experienced firefighters can instinctively tell whether a scene is an accident or a fatality upon arrival.

This was a fatality.

A passenger car, which had collided with a truck at the intersection, was crumpled beyond recognition.

“Quick, recover the bodies and identify them...”

At that moment.

A junior firefighter, who had run to the scene, shouted.

“They’re... alive!”

Surprisingly, all three members of the family in the car were still breathing.

Their injuries were not severe, considering the severity of the accident.

A teenager, who looked to be in his late teens, was even fully conscious.

“Heaven must have intervened.”

The next steps were swift.

The firefighters transported the injured to the hospital and cleaned up the accident scene.

As the time to save lives came to an end, police and reporters arrived.

Now it was time to determine responsibility and create a story.

As the team leader prepared to withdraw, the junior firefighter who had first confirmed the survivors’ survival approached.

“Team leader, did you see that boy?”

“I saw him.”

“Isn’t it strange? How can he be so calm?”

“It’s better than crying and screaming.”

“No matter what, it’s...”

“Shut up.”

But the team leader also felt uneasy.

The boy, who had regained consciousness while his parents in the driver and passenger seats were bleeding and unconscious, was very calm.

He provided the firefighters with his parents’ personal information and even made specific requests.

To be transported to a hospital in Seongnam.

Because his parents were doctors there.

His unnaturally calm demeanor was certainly unsettling.

The boy wasn’t trying to be calm.

He really seemed unaffected by the horrific accident and his parents’ condition.

“Stop talking nonsense and send a report to headquarters.”

But the firefighters didn’t know.

The boy, Hansiun, had experienced this exact situation countless times and had now resigned himself to it.

This intersection was the starting point of his regression.

* * *

“Patient Hansiun. How is your body feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Is there any discomfort or strange sensation?”

“No.”

It’s tiring.

Accident date: December 7, 2016.

Discharge date: January 6, 2017.

Unchanged schedule.

During the month-long hospital stay, I can do nothing.

Using future knowledge is only possible after being discharged and returning to daily life.

So, the hospital is always tiring after a regression.

“Isn’t that boy a bit strange?”

“His parents are in a coma, but his attitude is...”

“He gives me the chills.”

Of course, I know that my tiring and indifferent demeanor makes me seem like a monster to others.

But it’s too repetitive to pretend to be sad.

Besides, I have no reason to care about what the gossiping nurses or other patients think...

“Damn.”

I realized that in this life, I need to debut in Korea.

Until now, I would go to America immediately after being discharged from the hospital, but not this time.

As an idol, the opinions of these people could affect my image.

That night, I burst into tears in the hospital room.

Nurses rushed in, shocked by my cries, and I received an IV for dehydration.

I had deliberately not drunk a single drop of water all day.

“It was too much of a shock. He couldn’t accept reality until now...”

“Losing someone isn’t something you immediately feel.”

“He can’t be fine. Both his parents became vegetative states overnight.”

“Such a pity...”

Thanks to this, the hospital’s opinion of me changed completely.

So, the tiring month passed, and the day of discharge, which I couldn’t count, finally arrived.

“Hansiun. Call as soon as you get home, okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.”

“Your uncle will come to your house as soon as he gets off work.”

“It’s fine. You can’t always do that.”

“Still... I’ll come today.”

“Alright.”

The person who was worried and held me back on the day of discharge is not my real uncle.

But he is a much more valuable person than relatives who only want my parents’ inheritance.

Kim Hyunsu.

A junior doctor to my parents and a colleague at the same hospital.

A person who has been trying to take care of me since my parents were declared vegetative.

To be honest, Uncle Hyunsu was often a nuisance.

He would call, visit, and worry about me constantly.

Not just in Korea, but even when I moved to America.

Which regression was it...

I think it was when I was playing guitar in Chicago, and I was a drug addict at the time.

I had become addicted to prescription antidepressants.

Well, it’s common in America.

When Uncle Hyunsu found out, he took a leave of absence.

He followed me around like a manager until I completely quit the drugs.

He’s a grateful and consistent person.

Without Uncle Hyunsu, I probably wouldn’t have survived the early days of regression.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay. But what’s that in your hand? It looks like a notebook.”

“Oh, I just doodled a bit in the hospital. It’s a waste to throw it away.”

Uncle Hyunsu smiled.

“Good. Expressing your emotions is a good thing. You want to be a singer, right?”

“I did.”

“What? Not anymore?”

“No, I’m going to be a singer. I’m not sure if it’s because of my hope, though.”

“Huh?”

“By the way, Uncle. Stop overeating. Overeating can cause acid reflux.”

“Hey, I’m a doctor. Acid reflux is more chronic...”

“Just eat less.”

Even though I always tell him, Uncle still suffers from acid reflux, but it’s a habit.

After saying goodbye to Uncle, I got into a taxi.

Oh.